


(Victory) Green Fingers

by silkstocking



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2018 NHL Off-Season, Dallas Stars, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gardens & Gardening, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 11:46:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17243675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkstocking/pseuds/silkstocking
Summary: John finds Esa in the garden.





	(Victory) Green Fingers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nadler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadler/gifts).



It's September, and everyone has shifted into full season-preparation mode. The morning after they get back from Boise, John buys two coffees and drives over to Esa's place. He stretches in his seat, trying to find a position with the minimum of muscle ache. But it's the good kind of ache, the one that tells him he's making progress. John always manages to forget, every year, how much work camp takes, no matter how good he thinks his conditioning is.

He lets himself in with the shiny new key on his keychain, and finds Esa in the garden, on his knees with his fingers buried in soil. He's wearing a floppy sunhat that John wants to chirp him for, but instead he takes a moment to appreciate the line of Esa's back, the way his thighs flex where his shorts have ridden up. 

Esa looks up, and the little frown of concentration on his face blooms into a smile. "Want to help?"

"What are you doing?" John says, peering at the trays at Esa's side. They're filled with tiny green seedlings. 

"Planting. These are beets. I just finished peas."

"Uh. Okay. What do I do?" 

John has never planted anything in his life. He's from Gothenburg. His people are sailors. Like Theon Greyjoy, they do not sow. 

"Come down here," Esa says, patting the ground next to him.

John kneels, setting the coffee down on the grass and wincing a little as his joints complain. 

Esa laughs and nudges him with his shoulder. "Getting old, Klinger."

"Shut up, I just worked hard," John says. "We're not all about relaxing in the garden." 

"Plant these and you can tell about relaxing," Esa scoffs. But he does look relaxed. There's a smudge of dirt on his cheek and John reaches up a hand to wipe it off. Esa leans into the touch, his lips brushing John's fingers. 

"Hey," Esa says, and John can feel but not stop the stupid smile that's spreading across his face. 

"Hey," he replies. "So how do we do this?"

John lets Esa guide his hands, sliding a seedling out of its plastic pot and burying it in the soft earth. 

"See?" Esa says. "Easy. Now we have good stuff to eat this fall."

John really loves how happy he looks about that. "Show me again?" he says. 

Esa rolls his eyes, but he's smiling when he covers John's hands with his. 

By the time they've planted all the seedlings from Esa's trays, John's back and knees are protesting. He flops down onto the lawn and closes his eyes, letting the late morning sun warm his face. He hears Esa's laugh from somewhere above him. 

"I told you."

John waves a hand in a 'yeah, yeah' kind of gesture. Esa laughs again, and then John feels him lie down beside him in the warm grass. 

 

"You want to make lunch?" Esa asks. John's not sure how much time has passed; he might be dozing. "Else we should get more sunscreen."

"I could eat," John says. He could pretty much always eat at this time of the year. Camp has left him ravenous. 

"Okay," Esa says. He plants a soft kiss at the corner of John's mouth before pushing himself to his feet. "You can chop. I just picked some the last zucchinis." 

"Awesome," John says, and follows him inside. 


End file.
